I raised the belt. Stephanie, over my knee, raised her arse to meet it. Her head was down, hair hanging over her face while she stared at the carpet and her hands, touching the carpet.
I put my hand back on the small of her back to hold her in place. “This’ll be the first time you’ve ever felt my belt. I think I should make it memorable. Do you agree?”
“Get on with it please, Sir. Before I lose my nerve.”
“I was saying I think your first stroke of the belt should be a stinger. So you remember it. Do you agree?”
There was silence. Then Stephanie said, still addressing the carpet, “Yes, Sir, I agree.”
“Good girl. Now, keep your arse up. You look just perfect, not that I need to tell you that. And count down, aloud from five.”
“Oh. I see. Five.”
“Good girl. Clever girl.”
“Four… Three… Two…” There was a pause. Stephanie was very still. “One.”
I said, “Zero,” and brought the belt down, across the pink crown of her bottom. The crack of leather and flesh impacting filled the room, and Stephanie jolted down onto my lap, her hip hard against my cock, also hard.
She danced horizontally on my lap, her legs up and kicking, thighs spread as if she was swimming. “”Yeeeee-oww! Yeeosh! Yosh!”
I said, “Good girl, little love. That one had to be memorable. It had to mean something.”
“Yow! Oh Sir you bastard! That’s memorable! Do I count down again?”
“No love. Just for the first. Now relax. We’re going on a little ride together.” I swung the belt again, catching her just a little lower, about half as hard. The sound of impact was still impressive, and I heard Stephanie’s squeals again, though not quite as loud or as anguished. I was falling in love, or lust, with that sound.
I gave her the remaining four at the same intensity, and by the sixth stroke Stephanie had relaxed. No more jolting and no more squeals. I judged that she was back to enjoying herself. I put my hand on that hot, red skin and rubbed, then squeezed her and pressed my thumb into her anus.
Her movements slowed, and she tightened on my fingers and sighed. I smacked her lightly with my holding-her-down hand. “Ready for your second six?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. And Sir?”
“That first one was a bastard. I’ll remember that, long as I live. But … the others: you can go a little harder, Sir.”
“Do I need your permission, Stephanie?”
Actually I did, since certain agreements hadn’t been made. But she shook her head. I had to imagine her facial expression: I was sure she was being minxish again. “No Sir, you do not.”
“That’s right,” I lied.
I gave her the next five, making each just a little harder than the one before. There was no more squealing: her reaction was slower, her breathing more languorous. She was drifting into that mental space where I could keep belting her for hours and not hurt her at all. We’d do that one day, I thought. Then I thought, We’ll do it soon.
But I said, “Last stroke. The last one is usually memorable too.”
I’m not sure if she heard me, or if she was listening to words. But I raised the belt a little higher than before, and swung it harder. The impact sound was, well, there’s beauty in these things, but Stephanie only said, “Hahh!”
I held the belt to her mouth. “That’s all for now. You’re a brave, good and deeply fuckable woman. Hold this.”
Stephanie nodded at me. There were tears on her eyes and on her eyebrows, which is what comes of crying when your face is upside down. She smiled, pleased to see me, then opened her mouth so I could stow the belt. I sat up straight then, and lifted her with one arm under her thighs, the other under her belly, and kissed her blazing hot bottom.
Kisses have magic curative powers, my mother had always taught me.
Stephanie, over my knee, bottom freshly and pinkly spanked, looked up at me. I’d just asked her if she’d like the remaining twelve smacks to be delivered by my belt rather than my hand. She looked at Maires then, kneeling in front of her so their faces were close, then back at me.
“Well, I do like your hand. It feels intimate, when you’re spanking me. The belt would hurt more.”
I looked over at Maires. “Maires, you’ve had both. Lots of both. What do you think?”
Maires smiled up at me, then looked Stephanie in the eyes. “Stephanie, Master has a hard hand. He can spank every bit as hard as a belt can land. He’s keeping you comfortable because he wants you to have a good time – I think you can guess why – and that won’t change if you choose the belt. Or not so much that you don’t enjoy yourself.”
“But it’s a piece of leather. It isn’t him.”
Maires shook her head. “Still his hand, and you’ll know it. It’s definitely personal.”
Stephanie was silent for nearly a minute. She looked back at me. “I’m over your knee getting a spanking. So we’re playing a sexy game. That’s … not really weird. But if you use a belt across my arse, then that’s not playful. It’s more real. That would be unusual. Well, it’d be weird, if I picked that and then liked it.”
I smiled and rubbed her arse. For comfort, hers and mine. She waited but I said nothing, just slipped two fingers between her buttocks and stroked near her cunt, but without touching. She sucked in a breath.
“If I pick the belt, will you stroke my cunt properly? And then fuck me after?”
“Yes, but it’ll make no difference. My hand or my belt: I’ll still choose when I stroke you, and when I fuck you. You don’t get to make deals, love. Call that Submission 101.”
I moved my fingers back, further from her cunt. She clenched her buttocks to trap my fingers in place. It was too nice a trap to resist. Maires was staring at me, wanting to speak. I said to her, “Any more advice?”
“Stephanie, you’re right about intimacy. It’s really important, especially when we’re doing this. But believe me, the belt is intimate. It’s still Master’s hand, wielding the thing. But also, it feels very intense. You know it and he knows it, He’s watching you carefully, and you know he is. You feel his focus, on you. There’s a real mental connection between you. I like both his hand and his belt.”
“But you’re a weirdo.”
Maires grinned. “Yeah, I even like it when he canes me and fucks me up the arse afterwards. But you don’t have to be afraid of going further. That’s just old programming. I mean, you aren’t really scared of the belt, are you? You’re scared that you’ll enjoy it, a lot, and then you’re scared that you’ll be changing.”
“I…” Stephanie looked back at me. “Do I have to call you Sir, or Master like Maires does, if I pick the belt?”
“No. That’s a separate discussion. You’ll watch the end of Maires’s punishment first. Then we’ll talk about that, all three of us. But I really do think you’ll find the belt an interesting experience.”
Stephanie laughed. “That’s not the word I’d choose! But all right, I must be as mad as Maires. Belt me, darling.”
“Twelve strokes, little one.”
“Still sounds weird. ‘Little one’.”
I looked at Maires. She’d put the belt down by the wall when I’d given her permission to speak. “Little one, bring me the belt, please.”
Stephanie relaxed her muscles, holding my fingers. I stroked her cunt as a reward, then slipped my fingers into her. She sighed and opened her thighs further. So we were in communion, happy. Maires brought me the belt. “I think she wants it hard, Master.”
Stephanie stared at Maires, outraged or mock-outraged. Then she made an indignant, “Well I never”, sound through her nose and I knew she was still playing.
I tapped the belt lightly across the underside of Stephanie’s gorgeous bottom. “Noted.”
Stephanie rested over my knee, gazing into Maires’s eyes, as Maires knelt in front of her. They held eye contact, but Stephanie put her hands together to hold my right foot. She said, “Second quarter. Six more.” Then she wiggled on my lap, breaking her promise not to be a minx. “Do your worst.”
I could have added extra spanks for that, but the truth is that I was too pleased that Stephanie was having fun. So I rubbed her bottom gently. “I’ll do my best. Maires, in one of my spankings, are the second six lighter or harder than the first six?”
Stephanie said nothing, but bowed her head.
Her arse had already deepened in colour from pink to red, and my rubbing had confirmed that she was warm. Then my hand landed on her left cheek, definitely harder than I’d ever smacked her before.
She gasped, and her arse bobbed and writhed appealingly while she dealt with the impact. Clearly, she was starting to feel this.
I smacked her again, on te right, and then gave her four more quite hard spanks, so that there were cries to hear, and she needed to be held in place while her spanking reached its halfway point. I asked Maires, “Is she crying?”
“No, Master. Not … quite. But she will be by the second dozen. Won’t you, Steph?”
“Er, I wouldn’t be surprised, Ma’am.”
“Oh, Steph, I’m not anybody’s Ma’am. Well, maybe a submissive boi sometimes, but never a woman. I’m a slavegirl here, same as you.”
She stiffened, raising her head and feet, when my fingers entered her.
I stroked her, inside and out, until her hips were rising and falling again and her breathing was slow and loud. I said, “So how are you doing, after your first dozen, little one?”
“Oh, it’s a thing Doms often call submissives. And slavegirls. It’s very, very affectionate. Well, loving, actually.”
“Oh. It sounds odd. Though I suppose I am quite little. Anyway, I expect I’ll come to like it. Sorry, what was the question? Mas – Sir?”
“How are you feeling now?”
She only gurgled. I was distracting her. I took my fingers out of her and rubbed her heated bottom again. Then she sighed comfortably. “It’s hot. It should hurt, but it doesn’t feel like hurt. Completely different. I feel – I feel very close to you. Emotionally. And I really want your cock tight now. You’re going to make me wait, aren’t you?”
I said nothing, but smacked her lightly, then returned to kneading her arse. She sighed. “There’s something hot about the fact that it’s not up to me. And if I made any demands, while I’m over your knee, you’d find it pretty easy to punish me.”
“Do you like that thought?”
“Yes. I really do. This is so not my usual world. But it’s nice here. Sexy. And safe, weirdly enough.”
“You nearly called me Master, like Maires does. I’m not your Master.”
She hummed a piece of music that I knew I knew, but couldn’t place it at the time. It was, “Annie, I’m not your Daddy.” Kid Creole. That sort of indicates roughly when this was happening..
In the meantime I ignored it. “We have to discuss that and make some agreements first. Would you like to talk about what belonging to me would involve?”
There was a long silence while Stephanie stared into Maires’s eyes. Eventually Maires nodded at her. She said, “Yes. Yes, I would like to have that discussion, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Stephanie wiggled once, and her feet returned to the carpet. She liked being a good girl. “Stephanie, you know I’m not going to be spanking Maires with my hand, when she gets the second half of her punishment. What’s she going to get?”
“Your belt, Sir?”
“Yes. Now, Stephanie, love, you’ve done nothing to deserve the belt.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“But would you like me to use it on you anyway? For your second half? Before we talk about what being a slavegirl means?”
Stephanie raised her head again. She looked back at me, astonished.
Stephanie turned away from Maires to look at me and nod. She said, as if she was sorry, and her spanking was going to be a punishment, “Well, it’s time, isn’t it? I guess it has to be.”
Stephanie pulled a face: rueful. “You’ve smacked my arse, oh, I’ve lost count. But I’ve never put myself in the famous over the knee position, not for anyone. Never in my life.”
I smiled up at her, from my place sitting on the edge of the bed, my knees just vacated by Maires, who knelt, her arse crimson, nose to the wall. Stephanie expected that to happen to her. She wasn’t being defiant. She just wanted us to mark the milestone.
“You’ve got minx tendencies and anyway I love your arse. So it’s your first time but it won’t be the last. You lower yourself over my knees now, belly resting on my lap, bottom up. Toes and fingertips touching the carpet.”
Stephanie sighed again. She said, “I’m sorry I’m a minx, sir.” Of course my cock flicked up at that. Minxes know exactly what they’re doing. “Are you going to spank me as hard as you spanked Maires?”
I rook her hand, and pulled her closer. Then reached for her ear and pulled her down. “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
Stephanie pressed the front of her thighs against the side of mine, and lowered herself into place, following that irresistible hand holding her ear. I kept my grip on her ear, since instinct told me she liked that, and put my right hand on her pleasingly offered bottom.
I stroked her, and slipped my fingers down between her buttocks and thighs, almost but not quite touching her cunt.
The second time she made a slight protesting noise. She’d realised she was being teased.
I smacked her left cheek. Stephanie said, “Ow!” Not very convincingly. “One, sir!”
“That wasn’t one, Stephanie. I haven’t started yet. And for your first spanking, you don’t have to count. Not out loud.”
Stephanie said nothing, and her body relaxed on my knees. She was content to let me do what I wanted. I squeezed her left buttock, with its faint pink handprint, and raised my hand and brought it down, hard. Stephanie breathed through her nose. I spanked her right side, and this time I got a little gasp.
So I gave her four more, taking it slowly, while she tried to keep still and stay silent. By the sixth spank she was moving a little under the impacts, and releasing half-vocalised sighs. I paused at six. “You’re a quarter of the way through, unless you earn yourself extra. How you going, so far?”
“I know I’m a sorry girl, sir. I’m definitely going to cut down on the minxness.”
I smacked her right thigh hard, and she yelped.
“No, that one doesn’t count either. I was asking you a real question. How are you finding it, so far?”
“You find me, I think. No! Sorry! Sorry! It’s making me, um, yearny: I want your cock. But I think I could do with more spanking first. That’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”
I rubbed her arse again, and this time touched her cunt, making her gasp. Yes, she needed attention paid. I was certain that she liked having to wait: what she wanted was ceasing to matter much. That is, her wishes on the details didn’t matter, and she liked that feeling. The bigger thing she wanted, that was what she was getting. Stephanie turned her head to look at me. We exchanged smiles, two conspirators.
Maires drew her head back so her nose no longer touched the wall. “Ah, permission to speak, Master?”
I looked over at her. She knelt with her hands clasped on her head and a blazing red bottom. She was already redder than Stephanie was going to get, and we both knew she had the second half of her punishment still to come.
She was a beautiful sight, partly because anyone would think was Maires is beautiful, but especially so if you’re a person who thinks submission is beautiful.
“All right, Maires. Permission to speak, girl. Let’s hear from you.”
“Thank you, Master. I know that not being able to see is part of my punishment. But could you give me extra strokes, say, when you’re strapping me, and let me watch Stephanie get her first proper spanking? Please, Master?”
“All right. The privilege will cost you six strokes, but you knew that. Yes, you can watch Stephanie. She is lovely.”
Maires dropped her hands to the floor and boosted herself up. She came over and knelt again, but in front of Stephanie, and caressed her face. The two women gazed at each other. I raised my eyebrows, and my hand. “Second quarter, Stephanie.”
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I took my thumb from Stephanie’s mouth. She pouted, as if that made her sad, so I pulled her head closer, by her hair, and kissed her. “All right, Stephanie. You get to watch Maires get punished. Don’t forget you get twenty smacks too, at the halfway point, so you’d best behave yourself.”
She nodded. “I’ll try. But if you’ve already told me what I’m getting, it can’t make any difference how I behave.”
“OK. Twenty-four smacks. The number can change, and it just has. Also, hot girl, I haven’t decided yet whether I’lll use my hand or get out my belt for you.”
“Oh. The belt’s worse than your hand? I guess I’ll find out soon, won’t I? And yes, I’m not in a hurry to find out. I’ll be as good as I can.”
“All I ask. Now stay quiet, Stephanie. This is Maires’s time.” Stephanie opened her mouth, then closed it and nodded. I put the hand I’d held Stephanie with on the small of Maires’s back. Maires knew what that meant. She raised her bottom a little. She wanted to be a good girl too.
So I brought my hand down, hard, on her left cheek, getting a loud, ringing clap, and again on her right. Then we settled down, punisher and a punished girl over his knee, while I delivered a rain of open-palmed, hard smacks, too fast to count.
By the third minute Maires was getting uncomfortable. I continued, merciless, while her bottom stayed poised in place, cooperating in her own punishment, and her breathing because more audible.
At six minutes she groaned, and then kept up a series of low, whimpering sounds while my hand heated her crimson skin. Stephanie, behind her, held me tight. I didn’t turn to look at her, but I expected her eyes were wide and her mouth open. I slowed my pace, and made the individual spanks harder, now. Maires began to move, her blazing, heated bottom and thighs rising and falling as I spanked her. Her body was no longer under her own control.
Maires still writhed and cried. I stroked her bottom and inner thighs lightly, giving her time to settle.
Usually at that point I’d hold her in my arms while she cried into my shoulder, and then she’d show she was grateful for her lesson and she wanted to earn back good-girl points by sinking to her knees and taking my cock into her mouth. But I’d decided that Maires wasn’t going to have the sexual comforts that usually followed punishment.
I said, “Why are you being punished, Maires?”
She had to cough, twice, to produce her voice. “For missing a lecture, Master.”
“Do you doing think that was a good idea?”
“No, Master, it was seriously fucking stupid.”
“It was, Maires. Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?”
Maires reached back and touched the heated skin of her lower buttocks. She blew, as though trying to cool something down. “I’ve definitely learned, Master. That was … memorable.”
“Good. Do you think you’re done now?”
“No Master. But I’m hoping that was at least the half-way point.”
“Good girl.” She turned her tear-stained face up and me and smiled. She liked being a good girl with a well-spanked arse, and the promise of more to come. I smiled back, then did the Serious Master face. “Missing lectures is stupid, Maires, and you’re never to do that again. And when I’ve finished, I hope you’ll get a warning from your arse, if a lecture’s about to start and you’re not in the vroom.”
“Yes, Master. I think that’s quite likely.”
Maires climbed off my knee, hissing breath in as her muscles of her buttocks worked, but got to her feet and pulled my belt free of my pants. She stood just in front of my feet, belt in her mouth, hands on her head.
Stephanie and I both gazed at her, a sleekly muscled woman with delicious thighs, adorable breasts, with a belt in her mouth and tears in her eyes.
Maires’s glamour and her personality scared a lot of men and some women, when she wasn’t in this room.
I looked at Stephanie. “You, get down now. Kneel and kiss Maires’s cunt. You can touch her just once with your tongue, but you’re not to pleasure her. But you’ll feel how turned on she is.”
“My nose already knows. Sir. But yes, I’ll give Maires a kiss.” She slid snakelike over me, keeping her breasts, then her belly and then her legs pressed against my side. Then she got out of bed and knelt between Maires’s feet and mine.
She put her hands on Maires’s thighs as if to hold her in place, took a deep breath, and kissed those sweet and depilated lips. A second or two later she opened her mouth and Maires gasped. They stayed pressed together, Stephanie more or less obeying me by not moving.
It still counted as one kiss, one tongue touch, or so she’d argue if I challenged her. I gave them time, since they were a beautiful sight. Eventually I said, “Stephanie, little minx, it’s your turn now. Over my knee, little love.”
Maires had walked naked across the room, when Stephanie came back from ther bathroom, and knelt with her hands on her head and her nose in the corner, her arse glowing like a stop sign. It was part of her Cunning Plan.
Stephanie had joined me in the bed, and we’d held each other. She’d asked me if Maires was in trouble. Before I’d had time to answer that she’d added, “Am I in trouble?”
I looked at her to see if she was joking. She wasn’t, or not exactly. But she knew that the question and what it conceded about her attitude would make me happy. And excited.
I kissed her. “Not exactly in trouble, Stephanie. Would you say you’ve been a good girl?”
“Depends who you ask. My Mum wouldn’t think so. She’d be horrified: what I did last night! And let you do to me! And Maires … But you … I think you’re pretty pleased with me right now? Yes?”
I pulled her close, and kissed-bit her right nipple. She put her hand in my hair and breathed. My teeth grazing along her nipples was a good thing. We’d already established that. Then I smacked her bottom lightly, and again less lightly and looked up. “Then you knew you aren’t in trouble, and you were just teasing me? What happens to girls who try teasing, Stephanie?”
“Oh no, Sir. I’m innocent!” So that was the first time I saw her ‘innocent’ face. Eyebrows arched in appeal, eyes sparkling, mouth drooping at the corners. It didn’t look at all innocent. “I was just asking to make sure I’ve been good. That’s what a respectful girl would do, isn’t it?” She slipped her hand down between us to touch and test my cock. She said, “Uh huh.”
“Stephanie. No, you’re not in trouble, or not exactly. But you’re a minx. While I’m punishing Maires, I’ll take time out to give you a spanking. My special minx spanking. Twelve smacks. No, twenty. And twenty kisses.”
Stephanie smiled. That didn’t sound too bad. Perhaps not even slightly bad.
Her fingers closed on my cock, which expanded in her clasp. She traced a finger down the underside, making me gasp. “Twenty kisses? Not twenty fucks?”
“Well yeah, that too. But -” I paused. It was getting hard, I mean difficult, to think. “- that’s a longer-term project.”
“But I’ll help you! Um, why is Maires going to get punished?”
I said, “Maires?”
I nodded solemnly at Stephanie. She looked solemnly back. But I turned away to speak to Maires. “Did I warn you what happens if you miss another lecture?”
Maires nodded, her hands slipped down to clasp behind her back. “You said you’d punish me severely, Master.”
To Stephanie she said, “Master looks after me. Makes sure I get the things I have to do done. He’s very supportive. But if I fuck up too badly … Well, here I am.”
Stephanie turned to look at me, considering Maires’s words. My cock, still in her hand, was entirely hard now. I should have been more attentive to, and grateful for, the build-up Maires was giving me. She’d thought about winning Stephanie over, obviously more intelligently than I had. But a lot of my consciousness just then was in Stephanie’s hand.
Eventually I remembered that I was supposed to be pushing this along. “And what do you think you deserve, Maires?”
“I deserve whipping, Master.”
Stephanie looked at me, shocked. “You – you have a whip?”
“Yeah, I do. And yes, Maires does know what it feels like. But, Maires, are you going to get whipped now?”
“I don’t think so, Master. Stephanie, he’s strict, but he takes care, too. I think he doesn’t want to shock you. He’ll do something less dramatic. I hope he makes it hard, but I’m not allowed to ask for that.”
“Maires, that’s enough out of you.” I crawled to the edge of the bed, and put my feet on the floor, so my thighs were available for occupation, for spanking purposes. “Come here, love, you know what to do.”
Maires turned, still on her knees and crawled to me. She stood when she reached my lap, and lowered herself slowly.
I loved the soft-hardness of her belly and thighs on my thighs, and her weight, and the view of her ass and thighs.
Stephanie scampered to join me and looked over my shoulder, down at Maires’s perfectly beautiful and already very red bottom and thighs. Stephanie’s breasts pressed into my back. It was impossible not to be happy.
That was a request, and a surprising one. She meant I could be harsh with Maires and she wouldn’t be shocked at me. Probably.
I reached back and slaped her cheek very lightly, then thrust my thumb into her mouth. She knew what I meant. She kept her teeth clear, and sucked.
I put my other hand on Maires’s arse. She kept still, and silent. We were about to put on a show.
Stephanie had rolled out of bed to use the toilet and do other things she wanted to do. While she was away Maires and I had conferred.
We agreed that we both wanted Stephanie in our bed often or even permanently. And then Maires had said that when Stephanie came back, I should whip her: she meant I should whip Maires, while Stephanie watched.
I’d said, “What?”
I said, like Cartman from South Park, “Autoritah.”
She shook her head, annoyed. “No, it’s not a joke. She means it, Master, and so should you. She liked obeying you. Surrendering turned her on. So did things like humiliation, when you made her crawl past all those people. On a leash.” She smiled: she’d have liked that too.
“She liked your hand on her arse. She liked knowing that she’s giving herself. Now she’d like to go further. So I’m saying, let her see something between us. Where your ownership of me is real, and has real consequences. You should punish me, while she watches.”
“What for? No, I know why you’re saying I should, but what for? I mean, seems you’ve been pretty good lately.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Master, I’m pleased you think so. But I didn’t go to my Medicinal Plant Chemistry lecture last week. I was playing Bioshock 2, and I forgot.”
“And when were you going to tell me?”
“I was going to tell you, I promise, Master. But now seems like a good time.”
A thing about penises, penes, is that they can be tired out, but still wake up when offered novelty. It wasn’t that there was any blood flow to my cock, but there was a sense of awareness, and that blood flow would probably happen if things continued the way they were. I pinched Maires’s nipple, hard, to watch her wince.
“All right. You’re a bad girl, and you deserve whipping. But you’re a lucky girl, because that’d look a bit scary. I’m not going to do that the first time Stephanie watches.”
Stephanie, at the door, said, “While I watch what?”
Maires said, “Yes, Master.”
She got up, and Stephanie watched her walk naked across the door, and put her nose in the corner. It was an impressive demonstration of submission.
Stephanie looked at me doubtfully, but came to bed, and when I put my arms round her and kissed her, she pressed her body against mine and kissed me back.
She said, “Is Maires in trouble? Am I?”
I woke up at a bit after five, with Maires sleeping on her side, her arse rammed into my left side, which is never a bad thing. Stephanie had slept with her head on my right shoulder, so that my arm was numb but I could also look at her hair and face.
I thought she looked astonishingly and dishevelledly beautiful, also loving and lovely, and unbelievably sweet.
Still, I needed to piss and I didn’t want to wake them, so I had to manoeuvre carefully. I kissed Stephanie’s forehead and she made a small happy sound, though her eyes didn’t open. I stroked her back and made a yawn sound, so she stretched a little and turned onto her other side. I had two arses pressing against me. I worked my way slowly up the bed between them, until I could crawl, Ninja-like, over the pillows.
While I pissed I thought about the evening’s events. My first priority was to make sure Stephanie was happy. Maires was already happy, and for uncomplicated reasons like liking and lust she wanted Stephanie to stay this morning and come back often. Stephanie had further to travel.
She’d done a lot of things she hadn’t done before. She’d crawled naked past strangers. She accepted orders, and light but real punishments when she hesitated. And she’d had sex with a woman, which was also sex with a man and a woman. Lesbian sex and threesomes were probably not things she’d expected to do.
She had to accept what had happened last night without thinking she’d done wrong, and she had unfinished business, especially with me but also with Maires: what was she to us, and what were we to her?
Anyway, getting back into bed was much easier. Bodies like it when familiar bodies return. That’s warm and comforting. It’s bodies leaving that’s unsettling. Back between two wonderful women, I missed Stephanie’s face, so I yawned again so that she did too, and rolled back to put her head on my shoulder, her arm near my head. I drifted back to sleep.
Stephanie woke about nine. She raised her head, so I woke too. She looked at me, wondering what her reception might be, since she’d gone so far last night. Maybe I disapproved. So I kissed her and said, “Good morning, lovely Stephanie.”
“Good morning, Jaime. That was a night, wasn’t it?”
“Magic night. Stars in our eyes, pixie dust in our hair, love everywhere else.” I’d said that before, I’m afraid, but not to her. It was good enough. We kissed, and I pulled her on top of me, with my hands on her arse, and let her feel my cock noticing her.
“It was like that, wasn’t it?” So I realised how how worried I’d been, by the relief I felt when she said that. I knew she’d still need more love and assurance. I reached down and smacked her bottom lightly. She smiled. “You’re a kinky man, you.”
I said, as if I was quoting her: “‘Oooh, I’m not kinky: it’s just that my Master is.'”
She laughed, but said, “I’m not sure you’re my Master. I’m not certain I need one.”
I nodded. “In love, my love, beautiful, wonderful Stephanie, it’s not always just what you need. It’s also what you want. I’m only your Master while you want me to be.”
“So you think you are, right now, and I’d have to fire you, if I wanted you not to be.”
She said, “Uh,” when I touched her. She was still sensitive. I stroked folded, sensitive skin. Then she said, “Hold that. I’m bursting for a piss. Sorry to break the mood. Be right back.” She rolled out of bed. Of course it was easy, for her.
Maires opened her eyes. She’d been awake for most of that, I guessed. She said, “Good morning, Master.”
“Slavegirl. You’re not often so formal. And good morning. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Don’t be an idiot.” We heard the toilet door close. So we kissed. “I want her. I know you do.”
I nodded. “She didn’t object to the idea that you’re her Master unless she says otherwise. And she didn’t say otherwise.”
“Yeah. I can’t say how wonderful that was. If that’s what you want … ?”
“Yes. She’s lovely. I mean her, who she is. not just that she’s beautiful. And I think she found some things in herself last night. Big things. I’d love to help her through them.”
I smiled at her. “Don’t forget you’re wonderful. And you come first. No matter what.”
“Sweet boy. Master.” We heard the toilet flush. She said, “When she gets back, whip me.”